


She-Ra Fanfic But It's Written By Someone Whose Never Seen She-Ra

by GeorgePelant



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Entrapta (She-Ra), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Slow Dancing, finished but maybe I'll add another chapter?, meme fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 21:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18646162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgePelant/pseuds/GeorgePelant
Summary: What is says on the tin, I wrote a fanfic entirely off of memes I've seen on tumblr and my friends' gushing so let me know right/wrong I was. Have fun!If you like it, check out my other stuff:My Webcomic (Webtoon): https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/pandoras-bot/list?title_no=165169My Webcomic (Tapas): https://tapas.io/series/Pandoras-Bot-comicMy Twitter: https://twitter.com/GeorgePelantMy tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pandoras-bot-comic





	1. Hey Adora

“Hey Adora.” Catra said, smirking as the door slid open to reveal the kneeling figure, her arms hanging limply, chained to the ceiling. Adora winced as the Horde captain sauntered in, dragging the Sword of Protection on the ground behind her, metal screeching on metal. 

“You know,” Catra continued, “I didn’t think you’d go down so easy. Who would've known you were so  _ weak.” _ She slapped Adora’s cheek with the flat of the blade. “You always were pathetic.”  

She glared at her, one eye swollen shut from the preceding fight, and watched Catra hold the She-Ra’s Sword in her hands. They locked eyes as Catra ran her claws down the blade. 

“What’cha gonna do? Turn into a big lady with a sword?  Oh  _ wait…”  _ She whirled the Sword in a flourish, blade whistling as is passed Adora’s face. “Except I’ve got the sword now. What’cha gonna do, Adora? Hm?”

She shifted position as best she could, given her current predicament, and let loose a long sigh.

“Just shut up already.” 

Her vision went white with stars, the slap echoing in the confined room. 

“No.” Catra spat back, voice quivering with rage. “You’re gonna tell me how you do it, or else I’m gonna-”

The door slid open, revealing a tall, ominous figure cocooned in a dark cloak. Catra snapped to attention, saluting.

“H-High Leader!” 

Clawed, skeletal hands wrenched the Sword from Catra’s grasp and held it up to the light. 

“A trifle.” said the leader of the Horde in a voice that could curdle milk, fixing Adora with a glowing red gaze. “And yet, how troubling.” 

They let the Sword fall with a clang. Catra retreated a step, despite herself.

“The words of power.” the voice continued. “What are they?”

Catra balked. “I-I don’t know yet.” she admitted. “Don’t worry, though,” she said, with poorly faked confidence, giving Adora a kick. “I’ll  _ break  _ her soon enough.”

Red eyes narrowed.  

“Ensure you do, whelp.” they said, turning on their heel. “Or I’ll find someone who can. The Imperial Interrogators, perhaps.” 

The door slid shut with awful finality, leaving the two old acquaintances alone together again. 

Catra stood, still, silent, back turned to her captive. Silently, she crouched down and picked up the Sword. She turned to face Adora and, almost halfheartedly, punched her in the face. 

Adora couldn’t blame her. She would’ve done the same thing. After all, she had been right there alongside her not too long ago. 

She scowled as another blow hit her. The memory hurt more than the punch. Adora was tired. Tired of it all. The fighting, the pain. 

“Princess She-Ra, give me your power.” 

Catra paused, preparing another blow. 

“What?”

“Do with it what you will.” Adora said, spitting blood onto the floor. Catra stared at her. She didn’t think it’d be this easy. Some part of her, deep down, buried under years of betrayal and pain and heartbreak, had hoped it would be, because then she wouldn’t have to hurt Adora any more. She looked at her, bloody, beaten, helpless before her. Her eyes were empty, emotionless. Catra extended her hand and cupped Adora’s chin, holding it up to the light. It was not a gentle gesture-Catra’s claws drew blood-but with everything Adora had gone through recently it was good enough. Catra withdrew her hand, letting Adora’s head hang loose. She didn’t need to ask if it was true. She already knew. She held the sword up to the light, catching the reflection of herself in the blade. It didn’t feel right. Should she use both hands? 

Catra entered a defensive stance, holding the sword out in front of her. Yeah, that feels about right. The words echoed in the empty room. 

Nothing happened. 

“It’s not working.” Catra says, dumbly. She turns on Adora in a whirlwind of rage. “Why isn’t it working?!?” she shouts, cracking Adora in the jaw. The disgraced hero slowly, painfully, lifts her head to stare at her childhood friend, her mortal enemy. 

“Because you’re not good enough.” She says.

The room is silent, the way the scene of a murder is silent in the space between the gunshot and the body falling to the floor. 

“FUCK YOU!” Catra screams, wrenching open the door, storming out. The door slams behind her, leaving Adora in darkness. She stays there, waiting for them to take her.

Waiting for the end.       


	2. Keep Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know /why/ I imagine Scorpia as having a Russian accent but I do welp  
> Also I saw a really good post explaining why someone headcannoned Entrapta as autistic so I tried to write her as such but idk if I did a good job so let me know

Catra tugged at the collar of her dress uniform and ran a hand over her slicked back hair. 

“Nervous?” came a sudden, deeply accented voice behind her. Catra jumped, turning to see Scorpia standing there. 

“FUCK! How can you be so big and so stealthy at the same time?!?”

“Sorry.” She said, embarrassed. “Are you nervous? It is a big day, yes?”

“I’m not nervous.”

“It is okay to be nervous.”

“I’m  _ not _ nervous.” 

“Mm.” Scorpia said. Catra glared at her. What Scorpia really thought about anything was an enigma. 

“Nothing will be the same after this day, I think.” she said, watching Catra look at her reflection in the blade of The Sword. Scorpia laid a gentle claw on Catra’s shoulder.

“I have a lot of respect for you. You know this, yes?”

Catra looked at her, puzzled. 

“You have my loyalty, and my trust. I speak for Entrapta as well on this. We will follow you, and stand by your side, no matter what.

“...Okay?”

“It is important to me that you know this.” 

“Why are you telling me this.” Catra replied, confused.

“Because you need to know.”

“Right. Yeah. Okay.” She said, still not understanding but glossing over it.

A sudden realization hit her.  

“Where  _ is  _ Entrapta?”

“She is making modifications to your ship, based off of a new theory she derived.”

“What? No. She  _ has  _ to be here, this is the most important-”

Scorpia grasped Catra by the shoulders, turning her to look directly into her eyes. 

“She was insistent.” 

Her expression softened. 

“You know how she is when she gets a new theory. Maybe the modifications will not be needed. But if they are, I think we will be glad for them.”

“Are you saying what I-” 

Catra swallowed, then nodded mutely. She looked at the sword again. For years, all she had dreamed about was taking Adora’s pretty little sword and revel in the cheers of the crowd as her head hit the floor. 

Her dreams were about to come true. So why did she feel so  _ wrong _ ?

“Are you ready?” came a voice from behind the two, like a centipede crawling into Catra’s ears. 

“Yes, High Leader.”

“Good. I want that bitch dead and I wanted it done yesterday.” she turns, ebony cloak trailing behind her as she steps onto the stage, to the joy of the cheering crowd.

“Come.” Scorpia says. “It is time.”

Catra nods, and steps out onto the stage. Cameras flash, the crowd cheers. There Adora kneels, arms chained in front of her. She sees Catra, and gives a sad smile. Her whisper makes itself heard, despite the noise.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

Catra wrenches her eyes away, looking over the crowd. She holds the sword aloft, using the cheers of the crowd to bolster her confidence.

It doesn’t work.

And in that moment, Catra knows what she must do. 

“Princess She-Ra, give me your power.” she whispers. White flames, hesitant at first, burst from the blade, as armor grows over Catra’s body, covering her with a sense of sureness, of comfort, like a thick blanket. She looks down at Adora, helpless before her, and sees her eyes fill with fear. 

Catra winks.

“Hey, Adora.” 

She plunges the blade downward, through Adora’s chains, into the stage with a mighty crash, lightning arcing off Catra’s armor. Cheers turn to screams of panic as the room fills with smoke and the smell of burning plastic. Adora fell to the ground, struggling to expel acrid smoke from her lungs, when a familiar hand grasped her arm. 

“Get up get up  _ go go gonownownow”  _ Catra half-screams-half-cries, pulling Adora to her feet, dragging her along as Scorpia charges the exit, knocking the door off its hinges. A bolt of black energy slams into the wall behind them.

_ “Insolent whelp!” _

_ I’ll come back for you, you bitch.  _ Catra thought.  _ I’ll shove this sword down your throat and watch you CHOKE on your own blood. _

Suddenly, Scorpia came to a stop. 

“That’s the-oh hell.”

Soldiers filled the hallway ahead, bringing their blasters to bear. Suddenly, with strength that was not her own, Catra brought The Sword up, pointing the blade at the henchmen of the Horde. Energy burst forth, blowing out the lights. When they returned a second later, the soldiers lay on the floor, unmoving. 

The hanger door burst open.

“Entrapta! Get the ship moving!”

The purple-haired princess looked up from her work, face obscured by a welding helmet. The ship lay in a state of disarray; the outer panels lay scattered around the hanger, the ship’s wiring and internal mechanisms completely exposed.

“Are you  _ fucking  _ kidding me-” Catra growls, Adora leaning on her for support, head hanging limp. 

“Catra! Scorpia!” Entrapta say, delighted, flipping the welding mask up. She grabs Adora’s limp hand, shaking it.

“Hi Adora! I’m Entrapta! It’s nice to meet you!”   

“Entrapta!” Catra yelled. “Now is  _ NOT THE TIME!” _

“But everyone says it’s important to be polite!” she exclaims, as Scorpia gently picks her up under one massive crustacean arm like a problematic cat, setting her down on the seat and sliding into the pilot’s seat. She flips switches with practiced grace, and the engines whirl, spinning up as the ship lifts from its mooring. A unfamiliar button catches her eye, hasty taped to the dashboard. Entrapta’s messy handwriting spells out CLOAKING DEVICE :) on its surface in black marker. Scorpia slammed it as the ship sped away, the flak cannons searching the sky for it in vain. Catra collapsed against the bulkhead, breathing heavily, She-Ra’s power flowing back into The Sword. 

“Catra talks about you all the time.” Entrapta says, peering over her knees as she perches on the floor next to Adora’s limp form. She cocks her head to one side. “Why are you bleeding?”

“ _ What?!” _ Catra says, spinning. In a flash, she’s at Adora’s side. Sure enough, blood flows freely from a blaster wound on her left side just under her heart, staining her white uniform and forming a puddle on the ground. 

“No.” she says, quietly. It  _ can’t  _ be. 

Adora slowly turns her head to face her, struggling to keep her eyelids open. 

“Hey Catra.” She says weakly, before coughing up blood. 

“Don’t talk Adora, it’ll just-”

“You don’t know how to get there...do you?” she mumbles. “That’s okay. The coordinates are…” 

“Scorpia?”

“On it.” she says, setting the autopilot and grabbing the first-aid kit. 

“Just wait until you meet everyone.” Adora says, delirious. “They’ll really like you.”

“Adora please, don’t leave me” Catra begs, grasping Adora’s hand as Scorpia applies pressure. “Please.”

“I’m...tired.” she says, head lolling to one side.

_ “NO!” _

“I’m just...so tired.”

“ _ Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” _

“I’m just gonna...close my eyes for a bit…”

_ “Adora! Don’t leave me!”  _ Catra cries, tears cutting trails through the soot and dust matting her fur. Her pleading cries are the last thing Adora hears as she fades from consciousness.       


	3. Dancing Around It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As far as I can tell Glimmer is 10000% ready to FITE at the SLIGHTEST PROVOCATION and Bow is a Cinnamon Roll Too Good For This World, Too Pure  
> there was gonna be a section where Bow hung out with Scorpia and Catra. Scorpia was knitting to relax and Catra was like 'Normally when I'm upset I look at a picture of Adora until I cry and/or hit something until it breaks" and Bow would go D:

Adora wakes in her bed, sunlight streaming in through the open window, a gentle breeze causing the curtains to wave gently in the cool air. The room was empty. She turned her head, and saw flowers on the nightstand next to her. There was also, for some reason, a wrench. Adora picked it up, puzzled. It was well-used, oil covering the tool and soaking into the already strained pink ribbon wrapped around the handle. A glint caught her eye. There, leaning against the frame of the bed, was The Sword. 

Adora stared at it for a long while. Finally, she stood, ignoring the twinge of pain in her side, and made her way towards the door. The sound of voices on the other side made her pause.

“I don’t care  _ how  _ long you’ve known her, I don’t trust you!” Adora heard Glimmer shout.

“Listen here, cupcake, if you don’t-” Adora shot back, the voices of Bow and Scorpia, the peacemakers, drowned out in the shouting.

“Call me cupcake again and I’ll-”

Adora opened the door. There was a sudden heavy silence.  

“Hey guys.” she said, feeling sheepish. “Thanks for the flowers. And the, uh, wrench.”

“That was Entrapta’s.”  Scorpia said, giving her a small smile. “She is very...practical thinking, yes?”

“That was...nice of her.” Adora replied, watching Catra fold her arms and avert her gaze.

“Come on.” Glimmer said, putting a hand on Adora’s shoulder, pulling her back into the room. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.” she said, in a tone that suggested she wanted this whole situation to go away as soon as possible. As the door closed behind her, Adora saw Catra look back, a sad smile on her face. 

 

“I cannot fucking believe this.” Glimmer said, stomping across the floor. “WHY, under ANY circumstances, did you think bringing them here?”

Adora locked eyes with her.

“I trust her.” she said, simply. 

“How the hell can you say that, when-” Glimmer began to shout, her voice faltering when Bow laid his hand on her shoulder. 

“Adora believes in her.” he calmly stated. “That’s good enough.” 

“But-”

“We should trust Adora. She hasn’t given up on Catra; we shouldn’t either.”

Glimmer inhaled sharply and let out a long sigh. She leaves in a huff, the door slamming behind her. Adora slumps against the pillow, eyes downcast. 

“Hey.” Bow says, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Adora wasn’t sure if he was right, but tried to smile anyway. 

“Thanks.”

He gave her shoulder a gentle tap. 

“Get some rest.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. Left alone, she fell into an uneasy, troubled sleep.

 

Even the the princess’ magic, even with the power of She-Ra, it took a long time for Adora to get back on her feet. Days of pains and aches, bolts of agony hitting her every time she moved the wrong way. But Catra’s absence hurt most of all. Sure, Bow and Glimmer and the other princesses swung by on a daily basis, and Scorpia and Entrapta dropped in from time to time, but not the person Adora yearned for, who she wanted to see the most. Eventually, she was well enough to move around on her own, and life went back to normal. Or, at the very least, as close to normal as possible. Adora let out a sad little sigh and stared out the window at the setting sun. She’d gone to the room where the ex-Horde soldiers were staying a few times, but every time Scorpia just gave her a sad smile and told her Catra wasn’t there.  Adora set a record on the old gramophone on her bedside table and listened as she wondered why Catra was avoiding her. Soft music filled the room, dredging up melancholy memories of the Princess Ball. She watched the record turn and tried not to cry. 

“Hey, Adora.” came a soft voice behind her. Adora spun around, trying to swallow her tears as she sees Catra vault over the balcony railing. 

“Hey Catra.” she replies, her heart lifting.

“Hey Adora.” 

Adora gave Catra a hopeful smile. 

“I’m playing our song.” she said, extending a hand. “Dance with me?”

Catra paused, then took her hand. They danced, bodies swaying in time with the music, drawing closer with each beat. Catra kept her eyes glued to the floor, sneaking glimpses at Adora. She catches her every time, filling Catra with an embarrassing, but not unfamiliar, warmth. It’s the same feeling that’s plagued Catra since she met Adora, that haunted her during countless nights alone, that made her heart cry out in pain every time they fought, that she ran and hid for the past week to avoid confronting, that drew her, inexorably, to Adora’s room, to this moment, dancing with her. God, she’s beautiful. 

And Catra’s not interested in denying it any longer. She’s finally gonna say it. She looks at Adora and her confidence disappears, drowning in those soft blue eyes, that kind smile. Catra falters, stumbling as she loses her rhythm.

“Catra?”   

She doesn’t answer, not at first. Finally, blushing, she speaks.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just-just do it, okay?”

Adora gave her a small smile, eyelids softly closing. The dance comes to a gentle conclusion, leaving them standing in each other’s arms as the music plays on. 

Catra’s lips crash into Adora’s, heavy with years of pining and longing and pain. They melted into the kiss, Adora cupping Catra’s face, Catra’s hands gripping Adora’s back. 

And they know they will be together forever. 


	4. Dancing Around It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As far as I can tell Glimmer is 10000% ready to FITE at the SLIGHTEST PROVOCATION and Bow is a Cinnamon Roll Too Good For This World, Too Pure  
> there was gonna be a section where Bow hung out with Scorpia and Catra. Scorpia was knitting to relax and Catra was like 'Normally when I'm upset I look at a picture of Adora until I cry and/or hit something until it breaks" and Bow would go D:

Adora wakes in her bed, sunlight streaming in through the open window, a gentle breeze causing the curtains to wave gently in the cool air. The room was empty. She turned her head, and saw flowers on the nightstand next to her. There was also, for some reason, a wrench. Adora picked it up, puzzled. It was well-used, oil covering the tool and soaking into the already strained pink ribbon wrapped around the handle. A glint caught her eye. There, leaning against the frame of the bed, was The Sword. 

Adora stared at it for a long while. Finally, she stood, ignoring the twinge of pain in her side, and made her way towards the door. The sound of voices on the other side made her pause.

“I don’t care  _ how  _ long you’ve known her, I don’t trust you!” Adora heard Glimmer shout.

“Listen here, cupcake, if you don’t-” Adora shot back, the voices of Bow and Scorpia, the peacemakers, drowned out in the shouting.

“Call me cupcake again and I’ll-”

Adora opened the door. There was a sudden heavy silence.  

“Hey guys.” she said, feeling sheepish. “Thanks for the flowers. And the, uh, wrench.”

“That was Entrapta’s.”  Scorpia said, giving her a small smile. “She is very...practical thinking, yes?”

“That was...nice of her.” Adora replied, watching Catra fold her arms and avert her gaze.

“Come on.” Glimmer said, putting a hand on Adora’s shoulder, pulling her back into the room. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.” she said, in a tone that suggested she wanted this whole situation to go away as soon as possible. As the door closed behind her, Adora saw Catra look back, a sad smile on her face. 

 

“I cannot fucking believe this.” Glimmer said, stomping across the floor. “WHY, under ANY circumstances, did you think bringing them here?”

Adora locked eyes with her.

“I trust her.” she said, simply. 

“How the hell can you say that, when-” Glimmer began to shout, her voice faltering when Bow laid his hand on her shoulder. 

“Adora believes in her.” he calmly stated. “That’s good enough.” 

“But-”

“We should trust Adora. She hasn’t given up on Catra; we shouldn’t either.”

Glimmer inhaled sharply and let out a long sigh. She leaves in a huff, the door slamming behind her. Adora slumps against the pillow, eyes downcast. 

“Hey.” Bow says, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Adora wasn’t sure if he was right, but tried to smile anyway. 

“Thanks.”

He gave her shoulder a gentle tap. 

“Get some rest.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. Left alone, she fell into an uneasy, troubled sleep.

 

Even the the princess’ magic, even with the power of She-Ra, it took a long time for Adora to get back on her feet. Days of pains and aches, bolts of agony hitting her every time she moved the wrong way. But Catra’s absence hurt most of all. Sure, Bow and Glimmer and the other princesses swung by on a daily basis, and Scorpia and Entrapta dropped in from time to time, but not the person Adora yearned for, who she wanted to see the most. Eventually, she was well enough to move around on her own, and life went back to normal. Or, at the very least, as close to normal as possible. Adora let out a sad little sigh and stared out the window at the setting sun. She’d gone to the room where the ex-Horde soldiers were staying a few times, but every time Scorpia just gave her a sad smile and told her Catra wasn’t there.  Adora set a record on the old gramophone on her bedside table and listened as she wondered why Catra was avoiding her. Soft music filled the room, dredging up melancholy memories of the Princess Ball. She watched the record turn and tried not to cry. 

“Hey, Adora.” came a soft voice behind her. Adora spun around, trying to swallow her tears as she sees Catra vault over the balcony railing. 

“Hey Catra.” she replies, her heart lifting.

“Hey Adora.” 

Adora gave Catra a hopeful smile. 

“I’m playing our song.” she said, extending a hand. “Dance with me?”

Catra paused, then took her hand. They danced, bodies swaying in time with the music, drawing closer with each beat. Catra kept her eyes glued to the floor, sneaking glimpses at Adora. She catches her every time, filling Catra with an embarrassing, but not unfamiliar, warmth. It’s the same feeling that’s plagued Catra since she met Adora, that haunted her during countless nights alone, that made her heart cry out in pain every time they fought, that she ran and hid for the past week to avoid confronting, that drew her, inexorably, to Adora’s room, to this moment, dancing with her. God, she’s beautiful. 

And Catra’s not interested in denying it any longer. She’s finally gonna say it. She looks at Adora and her confidence disappears, drowning in those soft blue eyes, that kind smile. Catra falters, stumbling as she loses her rhythm.

“Catra?”   

She doesn’t answer, not at first. Finally, blushing, she speaks.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just-just do it, okay?”

Adora gave her a small smile, eyelids softly closing. The dance comes to a gentle conclusion, leaving them standing in each other’s arms as the music plays on. 

Catra’s lips crash into Adora’s, heavy with years of pining and longing and pain. They melted into the kiss, Adora cupping Catra’s face, Catra’s hands gripping Adora’s back. 

And they know they will be together forever. 


End file.
